#I have been doodling the new mons but posting them is another story

[cactuscely]

Ough I love this… thing.. horrendous beast in the oil pit. Doctor Gunk, PhD in squelching

(And a little bit of the other two that showed up in that trailer.)

[thetriggeredhappy]

in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

-

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

-

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

-

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently. 
And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

“Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

-

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

“Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

-

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”

“What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

-

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

[noctualilith]

Our Past Got Us Here

We all love the Harvard FinnLo pining, but after the amazing and painful art Haz posted today we needed an extra dose of fluff to balance the feels. Co-written with the amazing and eloquent @ais-for-alex , the characters and universe by queen of the hazelhoots @lumosinlove 

The box with the ominous title Harvard in blood red sharpie should have been heavier for all the memories it carried, Logan thought as he hefted it on his desk in his new room. He was all moved in with Finn and Leo, unpacked and fitting seamlessly in their space just as he did in their lives… but for this one last box.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that whatever he unearthed was firmly in the past now, and his present was so much lighter and happier than anything he would find in there. 

He heard Finn and Leo moving around in the apartment and he knew they were there for him if he needed them. He knew Finn saw the box and suspected what was inside, if the way he was lurking close to his door was any indication. He also knew that this was his task first and foremost - to unpack the past and claim it fully as his own, with all the good and the bad it brought. This was where he met Finn. This was where he fell for Finn. This was where he carried the burning flame of all he felt for him, held it close and hid it away from everyone including himself, until it burned him from the inside. He could still feel the hot rush of shame and hurt he was so well used to pushing back under and avoiding at all costs. 

Opening the box would mean coming face to face with it for the first time after years, no more deflecting. 

He was ready. He was home, their home, the three of them together and he was ready. 

He pulled the lid off the box and was met with Finn’s warm gaze staring at him from a treasured photograph lying on top, the two of them only a few weeks after Logan got to Harvard, throwing him back into a memory that cut with precision right into those places that hurt the most. Years ago, he had packed that box in a state of numb resignation, putting away his heart piece by piece, alone in his room back at Harvard because Finn had left him for a dream and it hurt too much to see the reminders all around him. He had been crying too hard by the time he placed that last photo in the box, Finn’s smiling face blurred by the tears and hidden away when he closed the box and tucked it away. Now the feeling roared to life in his chest, loud and hungry for a resolution. 

He wasn’t ready.

He must have made a noise, or maybe Finn had a sixth sense for when Logan needed him because the next thing he knew were his arms wrapping him in a hug, the safest place on Earth as far as Logan was concerned. 

“Lo, baby, we’re okay.” Finn murmured into his hair as Logan hid his face in his neck, breathing him in. They were okay, they were great, but there were still some things unsaid between them, an unspoken agreement to leave that box unopened for another day. 

Well, it was open now and waiting for them on the desk innocently.

Logan took a breath and lifted his head, searching for a kiss and the reassurance that came with it. He wasn’t alone, with Finn thousands of miles away, both of them silent and hurting. He was here, with his boys, allowed to touch whenever he wanted. They were good at reminding him of that, too. He needed that reminder now. 

“Tell me.” He knew Finn would understand what he was asking for. Logan wasn’t good at talking, but Finn could read him like an open book after all those years. Logan only realized how much after he stopped pushing him away and allowed himself to love and be loved exactly how he’d yearned for. 

“We’re okay. I love you. I’m never leaving you. Leo is never leaving us. You moved in with us and everything is finally as it should be, because being away from you feels like I’m missing a part of myself and fuck, I’m done with that. Do you know how important you’re to me? I’ll spend the rest of our lives telling you, Lo.” Finn was cradling his face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his lips after every declaration.

Logan’s hands were grasping at the fabric of Finn’s hoodie - Leo’s hoodie, actually - and that brought an unbidden smile to his face, helping the words hit home. Finn, in Leo’s hoodie, in his room. He didn’t have to do this alone, do anything alone, ever again. 

“I know, mon amour. It’s just-- we haven’t really talked about-- I know I wasn’t in a hurry to unpack all that and you probably weren’t either but I want to, now. I think I need to.” He gestured to the innocent-looking box, watching Finn step closer to it and look inside, emotions playing across his face. He knew what it represented, of course he did. He probably had one just like that at some point, or maybe his was still unpacked too.

Finn reached into the box and picked up the photo from the top, the same one that Logan could barely look at just moments ago. He held it out to Logan with a wistful smile. “Let’s unpack this one together, what do you say?”

“Yeah, I’d really like to do that.” Logan’s voice was shaky, but he was determined. They’d probably end up crying, he could already feel the hot press of tears behind his eyes just thinking about all the memories that they were going to bring to light, but he wanted them all. He wanted to touch them, to put them up on his walls and see them every day without hurting for their past selves. A story of how they got to here and now, of how they lost each other and then found each other again. How they found their missing piece and built a home together. 

He took the photo from Finn, their fingers brushing and unfailingly sending sparks across Logan’s skin. It’s been like that since he could remember, Finn’s touch like a brand, whether accidental and forcedly platonic for the longest time, or purposeful now but no less exciting with the promise of forever. It made him feel brave, so he cast around for the tape and tore a piece to stick it to the back of the photo. First one for the wall. First memory to unpack. 

“You remember this one?” he asked Finn while he picked a place for it, pressing it to the wall and making sure it held. “I loved you already, when we took this photo. I was trying to convince myself that I couldn’t, but I did.” He heard Finn behind him suck in a breath, but he stayed quiet, letting him speak. Logan turned a bit, just enough to reach his hand back, wordlessly asking for the next photo, sticking it to the wall without looking at it first. 

It was a photo of the two of them at a party. At the party. 

“Lo--” Finn started behind him, already gearing up to tell him they could do this another day, Logan could hear it in his voice. It’s happened often enough. Logan was sick of it, of swallowing the pain and the tears and hiding in the safe topics of their everyday life, like what to get for dinner and who should drive. 

“I’m sorry.” He interrupted Finn, softly but with determination, still looking at the photo. He felt Finn pressing himself along his back, one arm coming up to drape over his shoulder, his hand pressing over his heart. There was another photo of them, just like this, a favourite of Logan’s and currently in Finn’s room, another piece of his heart captured forever. He leaned back into the embrace, drawing strength from the unwavering support. Now, then, always, Finn was by his side no matter how often Logan pushed him away. He was done pushing him away.

“I shouldn’t have done that, at the party. It was a shitty thing to do. I’m sorry. You deserved so much better.” Logan felt the first tear roll down his face, felt Finn’s breath stutter in his chest. 

“I’m sorry too. You weren’t the only one not talking about it, you know? It’s on me, too. And we’re better now, aren’t we?” 

Logan nodded wordlessly, breathing through the swell of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him when he thought about that night. A miracle turned into a secret and sitting heavy and unaddressed instead of being treasured as it should have been. 

Finn spoke for the both of them, needing to acknowledge in words what happened. “That was our first kiss, Lo. I still remember it, like it happened just yesterday. I loved you already, when we took this photo. I couldn’t believe what happened after. I’m glad it did.”

Logan turned to him at that, surprised. “You’re glad? I blamed it on being drunk and then never talked about it. It might as well not have happened at all! Our first kiss was a lie and I can never change it. How--” Finn pressed a kiss to his lips and stayed there, interrupting his rant and waiting for him to kiss back before pulling away again, keeping their foreheads together. 

“I’m glad because we’re here now. We’re talking about it now. It was real to me, Lo. I was afraid then, too. I’m not anymore, you’re not anymore. We found each other. We found Leo. That’s what matters.” Finn’s eyes were swimming in tears but he was smiling, and Logan couldn’t help but kiss that smile right off his lips. “You’re right. That’s what matters. Gimme the next one. Let’s talk about all of them.”

The wall was slowly filled with memories and their weight was lifted from their unspoken past word for word as they remembered each moment for the good and the bad. So often Logan had felt close to crumbling under the guilt, but Finn was right there holding him close and offering him absolution with each new piece out of the box, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Beside photos, there were other things too. Movie tickets, four of them from the same movie they kept going back for. A receipt from a dinner at a roadie, just the two of them, where Finn doodled stick figures playing hockey while they waited for dessert. Crumpled notes that Finn would sometimes leave stuck to Logan’s door, sometimes a shopping list, sometimes an inside joke. Logan kept them all. 

FInally, the box was empty and the wall was full. Logan felt exhausted but his heart was lighter than it had been in years, brimming with love for his boys and gratitude for the road that brought him here. He and Finn stood shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the room, looking at the wall, tears drying on both their faces. 

“I want Leo” Logan spoke into the comfortable silence, pulling on Finn’s arm, suddenly eager to have them both close, to bask in the reality of having them, of being loved by them. “Come on Harz, let’s find him.” 

Finn reeled him back in for one more kiss. “Love you, Lo.” 

“Love you, too. Love Leo. Want Leo now.” 

“Yeah, me too. Come on, he’s in the kitchen.” Logan was already squirming away and Finn let him pull them from the room and towards the kitchen where they could hear the clatter of utensils. He did the hard work and now he wanted his rewards. He wanted his boys close. 

Hand in hand, they padded down the hall towards the kitchen, towards their missing piece, towards their future, leaving all the guilt and the hurt finally where it belonged; in their past. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Leo brushed a bit of flour from his hands. He suppressed the urge to wander into Logan’s room where he knew his partners were unpacking more than just the old boxes beaten by years of hiding in the closet. Those old boxes that carried memories of Finn and Logan’s days spent so close to each other but separated by an ocean of feelings that fit between their dorm beds. 

No, Leo had to let them unpack together. Finn and Logan needed to be the ones to pull each memory from the moth eaten cardboard. They needed to be the ones to hold them close to their hearts and feel, and once the hurt of all those years  past had been aired away they could finally hang those memories on the walls to look at without that bitter hurt anymore.

Leo would wait though, he would wait for them to emerge from the solemn confessional of Logan’s room, he would wait for them to be ready, he would wait until they wanted him there to pull them back together. He would wait for them forever. Luckily though he didn’t have to wait forever. Leo turned as he heard their footsteps padding closer to the kitchen. 

“Hello, my loves,” he said as Finn and Logan peeked their heads in to see what he was doing.

“Mmm,” Finn hummed in greeting and came up to press a soft sweet kiss to Leo’s lips. Out of the corner of his eye Leo saw Logan hop up to sit on the counter. When Finn finally pulled away his lips were pulled into a gentle smile and his eyes as warm and sweet as melted chocolate. Leo sighed at the sight, but turned to Logan who was softly kicking the cabinet doors where his feet dangled from the counter. 

“Hi baby,” he whispered, slotting himself between Logan’s knees and running his hands soft against his thighs. Logan sighed and wrapped his legs around Leo’s waist pulling him in closer. 

“You all unpacked?” Leo asked so softly for a moment he wasn’t sure Logan had actually heard him. But he saw that look in Logan’s bright green eyes that meant he was thinking, choosing his words carefully before he tried to speak. So Leo waited, he reached up to lightly trace his fingers against the scratchy stubble on Logan’s jaw as his partner gathered his thoughts. Leo felt Finn settle in behind him, pressing his chest flush to his back and rest his chin on his shoulder. He turned his face inwards pressing closer just to place a kiss to the soft skin on Leo’s neck.

“Yeah,” Logan finally answered with a sigh, he turned his face to nuzzle into Leo’s palm. “It was- it was hard,” he whispered, then looked over at Finn still resting his head on Leo’s shoulder and smiled softly. “But as hard as it was to live through, and remember, I don’t think I would change even a minute of it.” 

Leo gave him a bit of a puzzled look at that, why on earth wouldn’t he change it if he could? Why would he be willing to live through that pain? Logan chuckled lightly at his confusion and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Leo’s mouth.

“Mon amour, I would live every minute of it again and not change a thing, because mine and Finn's past is what led us to you. And you know what? Thinking of it like that, it doesn’t hurt at all.” 

Leo couldn’t help the sheen of tears that glazed his eyes, or the sniffles as he reached forward to pull Logan fully into his arms, holding him tight like he couldn’t bear to leave even an inch of space between them. 

“We love you so much Nutty,” Finn whispered, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck, “you make it easier. God, you make everything better.” 

“Guys,” Leo sighed at the feel of them pressed so close against him, “this wasn't supposed to be about me.” 

Logan reached out to cup his face, his eyes bright and sure as they gazed into Leo’s own, “sweetheart, it’s about us, all three of us, together. Our past, and yours, they were stepping stone to get to this exact moment.” 

“Leo,” Finn said softly, he pulled away slightly and turned Leo to look at him so his back was now pressed against Logan's chest where he was still sitting on the counter. Logan twined his arms around Leo’s torso as Finn tilted his chin just so until he couldn't look anywhere but those chocolate eyes. “It’s time we all moved on from the past, ok? Instead, lets focus on building a future, one for all of us, that we’ll get to spend the rest of our lives cultivating.” 

Leo swallowed hard, Finn's words seemed to crawl into his heart mending cracks and fissures he hadn’t realized were there. His words put to rest that horrible feeling that crept into Leo’s mind in the dead of night, in those moments he was all alone with no one to soothe away the fear, that he was the odd man out. That one day Finn and Logan would realize that they didn't need him, because they already had a foundation to build on. 

“I love you guys so fucking much,” he breathed, and felt Logans arms tighten around him. Finn smiled and leaned in, pressing closer gently until they were so close they were breathing the same air. 

“D’accord, d’accord,” Logan mumbled into his shoulder, he breathed in deeply then continued, “no more sad for tonight.” 

“I think I can get on board with that,” Leo said with a chuckle.

“Same,” Finn agreed before finally pulling away. 

Leo grinned and padded back to the other side of the kitchen where he had left ingredients for dinner strewn across the counter, “Well, do you guys want to help me make dinner then?” 

“Le, my precious Peanut Butter, I need you to understand this;” Finn said seriously, “just because we have grown emotionally does not mean our skills in the kitchen have improved in the slightest.”

“Well yeah, and they never will if you don’t let me teach you,” Leo teased, snagging a dish towel and snapping Finn in the thigh. 

Logan laughed at Finn's pout as he rubbed the welt now forming and jumped down from the counter, “Alright Nutty, teach us your ways, impart your vast cooking wisdom upon us.” 

Leo rolled his eyes at their dramatics but set them to work nonetheless. Finn was tasked with peeling potatoes, with a stern warning from Leo about slicing off his finger. As he was prepping the meat, Leo glanced over at Logan who seemed to be having far too much fun smashing the crackers to make a breading. He couldn't help but grin as he felt warm affection rush through his veins, like he had injected pure love directly into his bloodstream. Leo couldn't wait to feel this for the rest of his life, to build and grow with them, and love them for as long as humanly possible. 

It wasn't long before their kitchen was filled with laughter, and banter, and music played over the bluetooth speakers. The three of them worked in tandem, until the delicious aroma of home cooked food was wafting through their apartment. And so what if Finns mashed potatoes were a bit soupy, and what if the veggies Logan chopped were a bit uneven, it was something that they created together, Leo wanted to savor every bite. 

[bidnezz]

11:45

Here on Ao3.

Pairing: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Rating: T (for language really). Workplace AU, Coworkers, Lunch Thief, Silly, Apology notes, Simon is adorable imo

Summary:

Alec’s body is still, his hand tucked into the crumpled bag before him, body heavy and cold with the realization that his pasta is gone.

He digs, quick and rushed, unforgiving to the bag he won’t be able to reuse tomorrow but that’s the least of his worries right now. His fucking pasta is missing. He removes what’s left of his lunch, staring desolately at the tupperware of mixed fruit and bag of crackers, something purple and foreign stuck beneath them.

He grabs it, a piece of paper that’s been neatly folded into fourths, opens it up with shaky fingers that he’s sure is from the lack of food in his system and not at all from the completely valid and necessary outrage he’s filled with.

Sorry! I’ll pay you back!

Was looking for some inspiration and saw a tumblr post with the prompt:

who keeps stealing my lunch and leaving apology notes?

Tuesday 11:43am

 Alec stares at the digits in the bottom right corner of his computer screen, swears he can hear the ticking of a clock in his head. He wills it to go faster, knows it won’t, but tries anyways.

 Two minutes is all he needs, honestly.

 He thinks of his bag in the fridge. Boring, brown, and crumpled from re-use the day before. It’s the treasure it holds that has his stomach responding, begging the gods that preside over this particular section of pixels to somehow speed up time.

 He’s starving, hungers for the leftover chicken pasta that graced his and Izzy’s dinner table last night. If he thinks really hard he can even taste the hint of cream on the back of his tongue, heavy and savory. Maybe that’s just his saliva. Maybe he’s died from hunger and has gone insane.

 His eyes are drawn back to the screen when the numbers change with sloth-like speed and the mantra of food food food in his mind bring him to his feet, his chair protesting at the sudden movement.

 Nobody notices, nobody cares but him that he’s going to lunch 15 minutes early, and he likes it that way. He prefers the company of his grumbling stomach and beeping of the microwave before the only sounds in the room are scrapes of his utensils against the tupperware and content sighs of happiness. It’s his favorite part of the day, the 15 minutes he gets to himself before he prepares for the drama and insipid tales of parties he has no interest in ever attending that his coworkers like to push on him.

 His coworkers aren’t bad, if he’s honest. They’re normal for the most part, and he’s done his best to stay in the relatively good graces of almost everyone. Everyone near him, at least.

 Alec doesn’t venture very far in terms of cubicles, choosing to stay contained and focused on his work. But sometimes when he’s been away from Izzy for too long he’ll feel the creepings of loneliness and a need for human interaction and he’ll drag himself down two-to-the- right- one-up until he’s peering over the edge of Simon’s desk, patient and waiting until the bespectacled boy offers him a story about his band’s gig the previous week, or wistful stories about his best friend that’s just a friend, and he’s totally not in love with her, shut up Alec why are you laughing?

 So things could be worse, he thinks to himself as he reaches into the refrigerator for the paper bag and settles himself into his favorite chair with his back against the wall. He could have coworkers that are raucous and annoying, who squawk and screech when they talk. Or he could—

  Thief!

 Alec’s body is still, his hand tucked into the crumpled bag before him, body heavy and cold with the realization that his pasta is gone.

 He digs, quick and rushed, unforgiving to the bag he won’t be able to reuse tomorrow but that’s the least of his worries right now. His fucking pasta is missing. He removes what’s left of his lunch, staring desolately at the tupperware of mixed fruit and bag of crackers, something purple and foreign stuck beneath them.

 He grabs it, a piece of paper that’s been neatly folded into fourths, opens it up with shaky fingers that he’s sure is from the lack of food in his system and not at all from the completely valid and necessary outrage he’s filled with.

  Sorry! I’ll pay you back!

 The loopy scrawl looks elegant but does nothing to quell his rising blood pressure or satisfy the ache in his stomach. He crumples the paper, tosses it into the trash bin across the room where it belongs, and snaps his tupperware lid open to stab at his fruit with a fork that really doesn’t deserve the harsh treatment.

 He’s going to find out who did this, and he’s going to…

 Well, Alec is too hungry to think of what he’s going to do to them, but he knows it’s going to be bad. Very bad.

   --–

   11:34 Wednesday

 The low hum of keyboards and the occasional mouse clicking that he’s used to doesn’t calm Alec’s racing thoughts like it normally does, doesn’t try to lull him into the dream-like trance of his peers. Most days it does, but today is not most days.

 Today is the day Alec has begun to see his coworkers for what they really are. He doesn’t care if Lydia—who sits in the adjoining cubicle to his left—is pristine in her work and mannerisms and polite to a fault. Doesn’t care that she’s always polished and perfect in the coworker handbook, which doesn’t exist but really should because who steals people’s lunch? What he does care about is that he knows for a fact Lydia still has a stack of post-it notes she asked to borrow last week, a pack that has been almost completely used up to leave reminders and notes around her desk. She still hasn’t given them back, or offered him a new pack, and Alec pushes back the errant reminder in the back of his head that she offered and he refused.

 Because now she’s a suspect and he trusts no one.

 He stands, slowly as not to arouse suspicion, and when he passes her desk he does a quick glance around to see if he notices anything else that belongs to him on the dark wood.

 As hard as he tries, Lydia is perceptive and offers Alec the same picturesque smile she always does, teeth white and blinding in the fluorescence, and Alec does his best to hold in his guilt at his mental accusation.

 He’s early to the break room, earlier than usual, and he hopes that he’s rewarded with the mouthwatering teriyaki chicken and rice he prepared for today. It’s one of his favorites, and he feels his mouth flood with just the thought.

 He grabs at the crisp paper bag, sets himself down in his usual chair and reaches in to find—

 Money?

 There’s a note with it, red paper embellished with little gold swirls that trap the $20 bill.

 Sorry again mon pétit chef !

Hopefully this covers whatever I’ve stolen

I promise I’m not a bad person, just hungry!

Your food is the best. ♡

 He’s infuriated. This monster is mocking him now, taking the time to doodle on apologetic notes while he savors every last bite of Alec’s carefully cooked meal. They have the time for jokes and notes, surely they have the time to bring their own damn lunch.

 The only thing left in his bag is the empty, but thankfully washed, tupperware he had packed this morning. Damn it, he thinks as he shoves his fingers through his hair and heads over to the vending machine, angrily forcing the crisp bill through the slot and punching in his choices. Chips and cookies, highly nutritious and sure to get Alec through the day in a wonderful mood.

 He jabs at the coin return button a few times with no response, and when he glances down he can’t help the strangled noise that leaves his throat and the anger that forms a prickle at the corners of his eyes.

  Machine does not give change.

 He’s never used the vending machine before, not in his one and a half years has he ever needed to. But now…

 Now, he’s forced to sit at his table with a defeated sigh and $20 worth of snacks.

   --–

   Thursday, Alec comes prepared.

 In the morning he comes in wary with his lunch held close to his chest, and he sets it down in the same spot as always. Only this time, there’s a note taped to the front of his bag, a yellow post-it note that he hopes gives Lydia a hint, whether she’s the culprit or not. “Stop eating my lunch” it reads, big bold and to the point. Just like Alec.

 The day passes uneventfully, and though he’s confident nobody will be touching the cut up steak, potatoes and veggies in his bag this time, he’s still suspicious of everyone.

 Simon comes over to pass him a flyer for his show tonight, bright orange and the art is drawn by my best friend Clary, she’s so amazing isn’t she? I mean it, it’s amazing artwork. You know in a few years time this will probably be worth a lot of money, like a collector’s edition or--

 Alec’s ambiguous stare unsettles Simon and he adds a weirded out “Dude are you, like, okay?” before he shrugs and heads back to his own cubicle, Alec’s undecided eyes following his every movement with a sharpness he’s never needed to hone until now.

 Perhaps he’s covering up, trying to extend an olive branch beyond the monetary.

 Alec won’t accept, though. Won’t forgive and forget until he knows for certain that it’s Simon, and has a confession straight from the source. Why doesn’t Simon just admit that he’s been taking Alec’s lunch and apologize? Why does he have to do it in a roundabout way now that he’s been called out? Be a man, Simon Lewis. Admit your defeat, and stop eating my lunch.

 At 11:45 Alec’s visit to the refrigerator is prompt and purposeful, renewed with vigor because he has no reason to believe his lunch has been stolen again. Not until he’s sat on his chair with another empty container and note, livid.

  Or what?

I’ve repaid you for my trespasses.

Sorry again, mon pétit chef!

Today was especially tasty.

xo

 Fuck.

  --–

   Friday’s plan is foolproof, Alec smiles to himself, whistling as he steps up to his chair and sets his thermos and rustled paper bag on his desk. It’s unseemly, looking out of place and cluttered, but it’s a precaution he has been forced to take now, because he’s figured out how to get out of this predicament he’s been caught in all week.

 Gone are the days he comes home, starving to the point of exhaustion because Alec really does rely on his lunch to get him through the days. It’s hard to concentrate on numbers that begin to jumble together on a flickering screen that only agitates the pounding in his temples.

 So he’s decided that he’ll bring a lunch that wont spoil on his desk, something that will still be edible after 4 hours of room temperature climate. He’s testing it with his favorite soup, chicken noodle with extra chicken and veggies, his broth rich and hot filled with all the flavors that make his mouth water.

 Perhaps having his food in such close proximity to him all day is not the best idea. He eyes the thermos, then shakes his head because he’s being ridiculous now. He’ll survive, and at 11:45 when it’s time for lunch his soup will still be warmed and tasty and completely untouched by him or any conspiring coworkers.

 Only by the time lunch rolls around his thermos is only half-full and he’s already got cracker crumbs on his shirt because self-control is severely underrated and Alec is literally hungry all day long. So he savors what’s left of his lukewarm soup, tips his head back to drink the leftover vegetable bits and pieces that have settled at the bottom of his thermos with a grimace. It’s not the worst lunch, but it’s not satisfying and the high hopes he had set himself on this morning are shattered like the last cracker he crunches in his mouth.

 At 12:40 he’s about to head back to his desk when curiosity strikes him.

 Slowly, as if he wasn’t sure what would be on the other side of the door, he pulls open the refrigerator. His stomach twists bizarrely when he sees the carefully tented green paper in the spot he normally leaves his lunch. It looks oddly fitting, he thinks for a moment, like it belongs there instead of the unsightly brown paper bag he always leaves. He reaches for it, turning it over and feeling the weightlessness of it on his palm, despite how heavy it feels in his chest.

 Mon pétit chef -

I’m sorry if I’ve scared you off.

Here’s to hoping Monday brings new gifts.

Enjoy your weekend.

xo ,

M.B.

 Alec feels his face heat up, warmer than he’s ever felt in the confines of his kitchen with the fire high and wrapped in the air. The irritation sparks up again, and Alec doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so embarrassed and intrigued, but he knows it’s all too much to take in right now so he stuffs the note in his pocket and stomps to his desk.

 He scans the room before he sits down, most people are in the break room enjoying their lunch before the hour is up. Most people except Catarina Loss, three-to-the-right-two-down, who meets his eyes with a patient smile. Alec pauses, for the briefest moment he wonders if this is his thief, M.B., but then she looks away, returns back to her work as quiet and unnoticed as always.

 He doesn’t know much about her, and he makes a mental note to get whatever information he can out of Simon later without being obvious.

   --–

   Monday brings Alec in with hesitant, unsure steps, and he feels as if he’s walking into a bad idea.

 He sets his bag down on his desk, pulls out two brown paper bags, and stares.

 He would probably look insane if anyone walked by, watching these two lunch bags with such intensity he’s surprised they don’t burst into flames, but he’s early and Raj who sits behind him is the only one around at this time. Alec doesn’t care about Raj, nobody likes Raj. He’s an ass and if he wants to look at his lunch bags for 5 minutes then Raj can screw off.

 Chill, Alec, he can hear Jace’s words repeated in his mind. He sort of had a panic attack at Jace’s house Sunday afternoon when he realized he had no idea what he was going to do about Monday’s lunch.

 Jace knows about Alec’s lunch dilemma. Knows a little, at least. Enough for Alec’s freak out to seem a little less random and crazy.

 But still a freak out nonetheless, and now Jace isn’t here to calm him down, but he’s got his affirmation in his head that it’s really not a big deal, it’s just lunch.

 He snatches the offending bags, taking quick steps to the refrigerator where he sets them down side by side, one lightly rumpled bag next to an unblemished bag with the simple letters M.B. on them.

 What the hell is he doing? He must be losing it. All these numbers and long hours in a stuffy office all day long are turning his brain to mush and now he’s making lunch for his thief—not his thief. A thief. A lunch thief.

 Damn it!

 This shouldn’t be complicated at all, this shouldn’t even be a thing for heaven’s sake. It’s just lunch, it’s not a date and he doesn’t even know who’s on the other side of these notes. He’s acting like a teenager with these silly games.

 His fingers twitch, ready to reach out and snatch the bag to toss it in the rubbish along with any other stupid ideas he might have come up with, but he leaves it alone. Whatever this is, he’s being dumb about it, because it’s just food and maybe his mom would be proud or something, because Alec is feeding the less fortunate.

 With a nod, Alec regains his composure and heads back to his desk, feigning the confidence he sure as hell doesn’t feel, and when he slumps in his chair it’s definitely not because of a stupid lunch bag.

   --–

   11:45 comes so slow Alec is surprised he isn’t bald from ripping his hair out with each passing minute that feels like an hour.

 He stands, an attempt that was intended to be slow and purposeful but comes off as awkward and causes him to sway with misstep. Nobody sees, but he feels stupid regardless.

 While nobody notices him in his cubicle, he sees the usual smile from Lydia as he passes her, but this time Catarina is watching him and they make eye contact on his trip to the break room. Her expression is calculated, studying his movements and he hopes to god he doesn’t trip and embarrass himself.

 When he opens the refrigerator he’s disappointed to see the brown bag with the initials back in place, looking as though it hasn’t been touched. He grabs it to toss it away so he doesn’t have to take home the shame of his failed attempts at—

 Alec pauses, because he doesn’t even know what he would call this. Friendship? Peace offering?

 Whatever it is, he’s done with it for good.

 When he lifts the bag, though, it’s light and the food inside has clearly been consumed.

 He grabs his own bag and hurriedly makes his way to his seat, reaching in unceremoniously to retrieve the folded note he’s hoping is in there. He’s victorious, and he knows he looks bonkers with the huge grin on his face but he doesn’t care because he’s alone for now, and he’ll smile if he wants to. He sets the note down on the table, his eyes tracing over every letter slowly, admiring the swooping penmanship that he wants to rewrite with his fingertips.

 Mon pétit chef -

Today’s gift was from the Angels themselves .

I feel very special, so I’ll answer your request.

Looking forward to tomorrow.

xo,

Magnus

 He picks at his food, for the next 15 minutes, rolling the name he’s asked for over in his head, tastes it on his lips like the sweetest word he’s ever said. Magnus.

 It’s impossible to get back to work after lunch, but Alec does his best, honestly tries so hard to focus on the numbers in front of him but it eludes him. So he welcomes the distraction when Simon pops into Alec’s space, typing away at his phone and half-attentive to his own story that he’s regaling Alec with.

 “—and then Maureen was like ‘Oh, Simon, you’re so smart you should be the one running this place!’ and guess who walks past the office?”

 Alec gives a noncommittal grunt, and that’s enough for Simon because he continues.

 “Mr. Bane!” His voice is grave and he stops plucking at his phone to watch Alec’s reaction, deflates when the only response is a raised eyebrow. “C’mon Alec, work with me here. Mr. Bane,” he repeats as though that will get the point across.

 Alec shrugs. Simon rolls his eyes.

 “Mr. Bane is the guy who runs this place. He’s like the Sam Walton of Walmart.”

 “Sam Walton Bane is a weird name,” Alec responds, his fingers tapping quickly at the keypad to his right. He’s good at multi-tasking.

 Simon groans and smacks his palm to his forehead in an over-dramatic show of frustration. Simon has always been a bit over the top, but Alec supposes he has to be since he sort of owns a band. “No, Sam Walton is the guy that invented Walmart or whatever, you know the big chain? Magnus Bane is the guy that invented this place,” he supplies, though his voice comes out dejected because he’s sure Alec isn’t even interested anymore, if he ever was.

 But Alec’s brain halts suddenly, his fingers ceasing all function at the mention of the name he’s been repeating all day to himself.

 “Wh-What?”

 “Dude, if you’re not gonna listen I’m gonna go talk to Maureen,” Simon sigh and steps away from Alec’s desk where he was leaning against it. He’s ready to leave, takes the first few steps out of the cubicle before Alec seizes his arm, tugging harshly to bring Simon back. “Ow! The hell?”

 “Who did you say invented this place?” The words sound stupid coming out of his mouth, he knows that’s not the proper way to say it, it’s Simon-speak, but he doesn’t care. His brain is on auto-pilot as it tries to catch up.

 “Magnus Bane,” Simon repeats slowly, as though Alec is a child.

  Magnus Bane.

  M.B.

 Fuck.

   --–

   Alec calls out sick Tuesday, his head pounding with the stampede of a million questions that will never receive an answer if he doesn’t go back to work. But curling up in his bed and burying himself in all the blankets he owns seems like a better idea, and Izzy is gone at work all day so really who’s to stop him?

 Wednesday follows in the same fashion, only now he can’t stop googling pictures of Magnus, and good god, the man is literally perfect. He’s so gorgeous it makes his heart feel tender with loneliness because he knows Magnus is way out of his league. Magnus works 2 floors above him—well, Alec uses the term work loosely, because when you’re the head bitch in charge, what do you even do?

 Oh god, he’s just called Magnus a bitch.

 Magnus doesn’t know, can’t possibly know, but Alec still feels sheepish, and he ducks his head under his pillow to suffocate his shame.

 Not 5 minutes later, he’s got his nose pressed to his phone as he takes in the glorious sight of Magnus Bane on the cover of some trite magazine. He looks exactly like his notes would paint him to be, Alec thinks, sighing as he scrolls to the next photo. That’s how Izzy finds him hours later, cheeks flushed and jittery, thoughts and images of a man so unattainable Alec wants to cry.

   –--

   Thursday is sluggish and slow for Alec, his body genuinely retaliating against him for forcing house-arrest on it, depriving it of the essential vitamins and exercise it’s used to. He blames his inability to concentrate on this fact, and when he tosses two lunch bags into the refrigerator in the morning, he holds tight to this excuse. He’s too out of it to think straight, to really deduce why he still brought an extra lunch for Magnus.

 Why is he bringing Magnus lunch in the first place? The man has enough money to quit his company and live lavishly until he dies. Not that Alec wants to think about Magnus dying.

 Mr. Bane, he should be saying instead. Because he really doesn’t know Magnus enough to be on a first name basis with his boss.

 Little lunch-time notes from a stranger are one thing, but now that he’s wholly aware of the situation, this has to be the last of it. There has to be something against feeding your boss delicious food every day and getting flirty little notes in return, he’s sure of it.

 Something stirs in his peripheral on his way back, and he sees Catarina frowning at him, though she remains silent.

 He’s so lost, he doesn’t know what’s going on in this place anymore. His boss is stealing his food and flirting with him via notes like a kid, his coworkers are watching his every move, and on top of it all he hasn’t told anyone Magnus’ identity so he’s all alone in this.

 By the time 11:45 comes around Alec isn’t even hungry, his mouth is satisfied with the nervous energy it’s consuming because he’s got plenty of it right now.

 He opens the refrigerator to see his two bags unmoved, checks Magnus’ to make sure, and sits back in his seat dejectedly when it’s true.

 There’s a noise at the door to the break room, followed by a soft click, but Alec is too preoccupied in his thoughts to notice.

 He’s pushing around forkfuls of his spaghetti, jabbing his fork rather forcefully into one meatball in particular, but it does nothing to settle his nerves. He hears noise to his side, the soft tap of expensive shoes on tile, the door to the refrigerator squeaking open, the rustle of a brown paper bag with the initials M.B., and his heart races a few beats faster than normal.

 “Is this seat taken?” the melodic voice questions, and Alec feels his jaw lock up, his body tense around the tupperware in front of him.

 “N-Not at all,” Alec stutters. Dear lord, have mercy on his soul.

 Beside him, hand grasped on the back of the only other chair at Alec’s table, is Magnus Bane, asking to sit next to him. Him, of all people.

 Alec’s eyes travel first to the fingers curled around the plastic of the chair as he pulls it out, to the slender arm that connects to an equally slender but toned body and how does he even fucking know that? How can he tell what’s underneath the suit and tie Magnus is wearing?

 Surely the hundreds of google images don’t factor in. No.

 Alec gulps, and he finally meets the hesitant but curious gaze before him and jesus christ this man is beautiful.

 “Thank you, Alexander,” he speaks, his words pouring out of him like warm honey. And Alec chokes. He chokes, on what he has no idea, but he chokes in front of Magnus Bane.

 “H-How… My name?”

 It sounds stupid, he sounds like he can barely string a sentence together, and Magnus watches him. He can see he’s trying not to laugh, of course he knows Alec’s name, he’s probably done his own research on his employees, and he’s obviously caught on that Alec knows exactly who he is and he wonders if maybe google ratted him out to Magnus about his search history, because the smug look is awfully suspicious.

 “Would you prefer I call you mon pétit chef?”

 The magical laugh makes the teasing almost worth it, but Alec is beyond mortified now, because what does someone say to that?

 Magnus reaches across the table, his fingers graceful and soft as they brush along Alec’s chin to tilt it back into place. And Alec doesn’t say anything, won’t ever mention the way Magnus lets his fingers linger on Alec’s skin to anyone, or the way he feels electric in all the spots Magnus touches.

 “N-No. No thank you,” he murmurs, not sure why he’s being so polite when this is clearly not a formal setting, but rationalizing it to the fact that Magnus is his boss and also so insanely gorgeous and Alec is just so average that there’s no way he can form coherent thoughts in his presence.

 “Your cooking really is quite heavenly,” Magnus manages, popping open the lid to his tupperware, Alec’s tupperware, that looks so dingy and dirty in Magnus’ polished hands. It all feels so very domestic, despite Alec having never sat across from anyone so brilliant and extraordinary in his life.

 Staring at him now, face-to-face, Alec thinks that the photographs and magazine covers don’t do him the justice he deserves, don’t quite capture the immortality and timelessness of his face.

 “I’m glad you like it,” Alec says softly, his gaze everywhere but Magnus, because even though they’re drawn to him like moths to flame, it’s too much to bear for a prolonged period of time.

 But there’s time, he hears the whisper of the words in his head, feels them stretch across his consciousness with the promise of the future.

 He’s only just met Magnus, only started his silly correspondence a little over a week ago, but he feels a connection he didn’t know he was missing.

 Suddenly, a questions pops into his head and passes through the filter of his mouth before he can stop it, a question he’s been mulling over for days now since he found out who Magnus was.

 “Why did you steal my lunch?”

 Magnus laughs, loud and genuine and Alec basks in the sound, feels it warm the shakiness in his sweaty palms still.

 “Catarina is one of my oldest friends,” he begins, his eyes twinkling. “I came to visit her one afternoon for lunch and I saw you sitting in here alone, in that very seat.” Alec feels the heat rise to his face and he shifts uncomfortably at how predictable and boring he is. “I thought to myself, ‘what is this gorgeous man doing here all alone?’ And then you took a bite of your food, closed your eyes and looked so peaceful that I decided then and there I needed to try this amazing food.”

 Alec balks, his mouth threatening to fall open again, but he attempts to keep his composure. Magnus looks pleased with himself.

 “You could have just asked me to make you something,” he whispers, more of a thought to himself than to Magnus, but he hears it anyways and gives a low hum.

 “Where’s the fun in that?”

 Where indeed, Alec thinks, and he takes a bite of his lunch he’s made for them today, peering up at Magnus through his lashes, watching his response as he takes his first bite of the dish. And maybe Alec’s in the wrong profession because the soft moan and euphoric look on Magnus’ face makes Alec feel more accomplished than a day filled with numbers and data entry.

 The humor that their first meal together being pasta is not lost on Alec, and he smiles across at his lunch thief, wondering if he’s going to steal more than just his food.

 He kinda hopes he will.

[makeste]

BnHA Bonus Diversion: Horikoshi’s Sketches

of all the things I could have spent time writing a post about on my morning off, it ended up being this. but in my defense, Horikoshi’s sketches are actually amazing and this was kind of overdue.

so! as you may know, Horikoshi Kouhei frequently gets bored and doodle-y and is then kind enough to share the resulting drawings with us. sketchy boi. but not sketchy like that. though he did invent Mineta so maybe a little. 

anyway, because he’s so disgustingly talented, these pictures are usually amazing. and there are a lot of them. when I finally got around to doing this post, I ran a search for “Horikoshi sketches” and it turned out there was a whole wiki page dedicated just to them (god bless whoever is running the BnHA wiki, they do such a good job). and, well...

two hundred and eighty-eight. you may recognize this as being nearly fifty more than the current number of chapters. this would mean he’s releasing at least one sketch a week and has been doing so for the past five years! fortunately (for me, who has to do a recap of all these), this number is slightly misleading, as this page apparently includes some of the character sketches he did for the volume omakes. so I don’t have to go through 300 sketches omfg. but still, there are a lot! so I’ll just go through them and post my favorites and see how many we can get through in this post I guess.

these are all in alphabetical order according to their file names on the wiki, and like I said, I’m not doing all of them, just the ones that catch my eye the most. which is still a ton of them. honestly we’re about to find out whether tumblr text posts have image limits. (ETA: the limit does not exist!)

right off the bat we are getting off to a great start! love me the ladies of class 1-A. these girls are all so, so valid. I love how Deku is there too and his hair is transforming into a tree or something.

this is a sketch from chapter 10. this cat I guess just came up to them and they were like “...” and the cat was like “...” and long story short they’ve been like this now for a whole hour. meanwhile Aizawa is wondering where his cat has gone.

why are they dressed like it’s world war I. ??

holy fuck this cat. did it eat the other cat. anyway do you guys think Momo and Todoroki were walking to school together because that’s some cute shit omg. we know there is a cat that hangs out around Shouto’s house, so he’s probably good at playing with stray cats, and they probably really like him because he is calm and kind.

holy shit.

oh my god I need Tsuyu’s siblings to come visit the dorms at U.A. and play with Eri!! now.

posting this one because it’s cute, but also because it notably has nothing at all to do with the actual chapter 120. but that’s okay.

what, and I mean this sincerely, the fuck.

are they making chocolate?? you know, canonically we haven’t actually had a Valentine’s Day yet in the series, and now I’m really hoping we get a little mini plot. things that would happen:

every single girl makes chocolate for Todoroki and he just accepts it very politely and obliviously.

they actually make enough chocolate for everyone (except Mineta. and honestly they would have, except they know how that’s gonna go down, and no. Tsuyu really would have made you some pity chocolate dawg, but you brought this on yourself). but don’t end up giving it to everyone. specifically several of them thought better about giving some to Bakugou after seeing him react to the first unlucky person to give him some (y’all know that song I THREW IT ON THE GROUND by the Lonely Island? I’m sure you can understand my meaning here). and also Jirou gets way too flustered about giving some to Kaminari and chickens out. she gives it to Momo instead. hmmMMMM.

Satou also makes chocolate for everyone, EVEN BAKUGOU, and it’s delicious. no one is throwing his chocolate on the ground.

Aoyama makes chocolate for Deku because!!  ☆ ☆ WE ARE FRIENDS, MON AMI  ☆  ☆  ☆ oui oui baguette.

I love everything about this, but especially Ochako’s face. she’s just like. sincerely trying to figure out exactly where she went wrong.

excuse the fuck out of me but DID HORIKOSHI SERIOUSLY HINT AT THE FUCKING A-BAND A WHOLE ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY CHAPTERS BEFORE IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED. omfg. “what a cute AU!” “yes... AU,” Horikoshi agrees, nodding to himself. although after giving it some thought, he made the wise decision to switch Kaminari and Bakugou’s instruments. because we all know Bakugou was born to play the drums.

NO!!! VIDEO GAMES!!! IN CLASS!!!!!!!! [does a fucking aerial while emitting furious little huffs and bitchslapping Kirishima in the face]

I can’t figure out what’s going on in this picture. it appears to be baseball, except that Bakugou doesn’t have a bat. which I guess is the joke?? because his quirk is so strong he doesn’t need the fucking bat? except that I feel like that would result in either a broken arm or a blown-up baseball. idk this would make more sense with him as the pitcher.

“we really do love this AU, Horikoshi-sensei.” “yes... AU.”

this time it’s Shouji on the drums. I get that we all want to see Bakugou shred guitar, but it feels like he was just postponing the inevitable.

a full 85 chapters before he actually did this in the manga. god he really does enjoy foreshadowing with these things. I need to start paying more attention to these.

I have no words.

actually I do have words, and they are, “is that a fucking toothbrush.”

also is it just me or does he look, like, really swole in this pic. like, this is what the scarf has been hiding the whole time?? here we all thought he was a beanpole who subsisted off of energy bars and plain rice, but like. nope.

:) showing that there’s no hard feelings about the whole shooting-you-in-the-fucking-face thing. All Might is squeezing his hand awfully tightly, though.

all of them are so good-looking when they’re not trying. and then they open their mouths.

I am pained that there hasn’t at least been a karaoke chapter in one of the light novels yet, guys. pained. I NEED THIS.

holy fuck Todoroki. what are you, a mermaid?? I feel like this is a result of a prank gone wrong. like the other guys were sick of the girls always pining after him, and so they tried rubbing a balloon on his head in an effort to make him look ridiculous, only IT BACKFIRED COMPLETELY. shit.

fuck me I love this. of course Kami blowdries his hair and puts a ridiculous amount of effort into achieving the same kind of boyishly tousled look Todoroki is JUST NATURALLY BORN WITH. some things in life just aren’t fair. also lmao Deku.

oh my god. how are they all so cute. this was from episode 12 btw. you’re welcome for saving your life All Might.

I don’t have the slightest idea wtf is going on here but omg.

this was for episode 16 of the anime, a.k.a. the obstacle course episode of the Sports Festival arc in season 2. I can’t read what they’re saying, but I’ll tell you what, I know Bakugou is being a rude little shit and I’m here for it.

SHINSOUUUUUU. this was for episode 20. his one and only appearance in the anime so far. he knows he’s here for a good time not a long time.

lmao. my headcanon is that Monoma actually ended up losing after this, but somehow still managed to be smug about it.

lmaoooo. Kacchan refusing to even acknowledge that this is a thing that is happening for some reason.

HAWKS DID YOU REALLY KILL THIS MAN. COME ON OUT HERE I JUST WANT TO TALK.

I feel like taming Deku’s hair is arguably even more of a feat than taming Bakugou’s. meanwhile Iida looks 90% the same. and Todoroki is. well. just goes to show that this look is not for just anyone.

I have never in my life seen Katsuki so full on just done with life. like he is so fucking over this shit. he’s just rolled over and accepted it. I have never seen Bakugou fucking Katsuki just sigh and be all, “you know what, this might as well happen.” not until this moment. wow.

you guys I’m crying.

is it just me or do the little matroyshka dolls actually look like little nun Jeanists. though the hair swoosh is going the wrong way. Monomas, maybe.

HOLY SHIT I LOVE THIS? my god, how useful would Shouji’s quirk be for this sort of thing. and Shouto looks so surprised (on like, a Todoroki scale) to have actually caught something. oh my god. so fucking cute. c’mere you. someone needs a hair ruffle.

I feel like this is how Tokoyami would want to be remembered. yes I know he’s not dead.

oh my god. so I’ve seen this one floating around on tumblr, but like. ffff. it’s my favorite ever. they are. so. fucking. cute. both looking up to All Might. and then the contrast between their innocent happy faces and their shocked and worried expressions watching All Might at Kamino. god it fucking destroys me. all four of these kids need hugs goddammit. the older ones because they’re heartbroken, and the little bubbas just because they’re so stinkin’ cute omfg.

I LOVE HER AND I’M NOT SORRY. please Horikoshi give me more Bakufam in this upcoming arc. who do I have to bribe or threaten.

STRANGER DANGER omg. Toga no. that’s not nice.

Horikoshi what did my heart ever do to you for you to treat it like this.

villain Iida from episode 7 holy fuck I’m dying.

here come the New Year’s sketches! I’ve been looking forward to these. Kacchan photo strategy: never look directly at the camera.

I wonder which animal year 2016 was. rooster, probably.

fucking look at Todoroki fucking Shouto stuffing his face yet again. can you stop chewing for one fucking second. we’re trying to take a picture you slob.

the year is 2018. Horikoshi Kouhei attempts to draw a dog, because it’s the year of the fucking dog. it does not go well. panicked, he takes the All Might he’s already started drawing, and for some reason attempts to turn it into another dog. it goes even worse. now he’s really starting to sweat. “oh shit,” he whispers, drawing Deku upside-down in his unrest. “oh fuck.” finally he just draws Bakugou shouting the words HAPPY NEW YEAR in giant letters across the screen, hoping that’ll be enough to distract everyone from all the rest of it. it is not.

oh my god. thank you so much to everyone who went to SDCC and made him so happy. this is the purest thing I’ve ever seen. also loving Bakugou tolerating the shit out of All Might leaning on him omg. I’m so fucking weak for this as always.

this is Horikoshi’s most recent sketch! lookit, he’s so happy with the toy him omg. it actually is really badass.

league of dorks. I love Toga’s face. and how Horikoshi clearly put more effort into drawing Tomura’s Face Hand than the entire rest of the picture.

I don’t understand a single element of this. wow. also this is twice now that Horikoshi has drawn the fucking Predator in these sketches. just pointing that out. of all the films to make multiple references to. what’s going on here. and is Mineta playing the fucking little sister in Totoro. am I losing my fucking mind.

this was for the season 3 premiere. I love how Bakugou and Deku are wrestling for control of the screen. but he knows better than to touch Mineta I guess.

Iida and Ochako are the only two reacting appropriately here. Bakugou just looks concerned. to be fair I guess that’s appropriate too. but Deku is all “fuck YEAH All Might you go ahead and SMASH YOUR FACE RIGHT THROUGH THAT MONITOR” and I feel like his blanket approval of all his mentor’s actions has finally gone too far.

this just goes to show you that even a very simple sketch concept can pay off dividends if you play your cards right. good job Horikoshi.

he could run faster if he just pulled his fucking pants up. does anyone have any brain cells to spare for my son here. please he needs them. I don’t know what he thinks a belt is actually for...?

hello this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and also is Kirishima doing the kage bunshin pose from Naruto or.

sob Aizawa I’m dead. I fucking love how Mineta is like HE’S CLEARLY FINE IT WAS A FLOP as though Kirishima is not literally covered in fucking grape balls. something else I also love is that Katsuki is number 10 and Deku is number 11. even in a soccer match he can’t stand to be lower then his rival sob. also Ochako is straight up about to rip off Mina’s head jesus christ girl run.

there aren’t even words for how much I ship this. just emotions. omg.

this is one of those pictures that keeps getting more wtf the longer you stare at it. naturally your eyes are drawn to Todoroki’s reindeer antlers first. by contrast, Ochako looks relatively normal, even with the odd pose. but then you notice Deku’s Christmas tree hair. from there your eyes are drawn down to his strange lack of a shirt. and then, finally, you spot him. Tokoyami. you wonder if the mangaka has finally gone too far. you’re still not sure.

for once it’s not Todoroki who’s leaping into action with his mouth full. never one to back down from a challenge, Bakugou has picked the absolute least practical food to consume whilst in the middle of battling. I can barely eat spaghetti without making a mess when I’m not throwing down. I’m not sure what a good food to eat while throwing down would be, but maybe something more portable, like a calzone.

I feel drawn to him the same way one might be drawn to a stray cat, even though you’re pretty sure the cat is really wary of people and will probably try to claw or bite you if you get too close. I would like to pat him on the head, but he might try to blow me up. eh, worth it.

look at the Baku Protection Squad trying to do some fucking Abbey Road thing. damn you can really see how short Tokoyami is in this. also Bakugou buys pants that are at least three sizes too big I s2g.

and that’s it! anyways, this was fun as heck. I’ve bookmarked Horikoshi’s Twitter now so I can keep up with the new sketches as they’re released. this is fucking great, and a whole new bonus to being caught up with the manga that I haven’t been appreciating until now. fucking love it.

[nsfwviolets]

hello everyone !! my name is ally & i hail from the est timezone. i really should be studying for my exam tomorrow or at least trying to get some rest but here i am !! i don’t think anything has really changed about vi but everything you need to know about her is under the cut !! & like always, please like this post so i could bother you for plots !!

❛ new york’s very own violet lennox was spotted on broadway street in jimmy choo thigh high boots. your resemblance to taylor hill is unreal. according to tmz, you just had your twenty-third birthday bash. while living in new york, you’ve been labeled as being avaricious, but also enticing. i guess being a gemini explains that. three things that would paint a better picture of you would be elongated limbs tangled in pink silk sheets, the lingering smell of yves saint laurent mon paris, & oversized faux fur coats draping sun kissed shoulders  ( cisfemale & she/her ) + ( ally, 21, she/her, est )

basics ;;

full name:  violet ( soft & sweet ) faith ( unquestioning belief and complete trust in god ) lennox ( northern irish / scottish last name ).

nicknames: vi, v.

age: twenty-three.

birthday: 18 june 1996.

zodiac: gemini.

gender: cisfemale.

pronouns: she / her / hers.

sexual orientation: bisexual.

nationality: american.

hometown: aspen, colorado.

parents: diane galindo ( brooke shields ) & richard lennox ( rob lowe ).

siblings: older sister.

pet(s): one year old miniature labradoodle named tate.

religion: roman catholic.

height: 5′10.

occupation: victoria’s secret angel / instagram model / socialite.

positive traits: honest, loyal, passionate, responsible, authentic, affectionate, reliable, kindhearted, & courageous.

negative traits: loud, manipulative, stubborn, materialistic, selfish, abrasive, hypocritical, insecure, & dramatic.

hobbies: shopping, audrey hepburn movie marathons, traveling, being the center of attention, photography, spontaneous dance parties, working out, massages, doodling, pilates, online shopping, & journaling.

habits: interrupting someone mid sentence, excessive hair tucking, shoulder rolling, lip biting, & impatiently tapping her heels or acrylic nails when she is at a loss for words & or annoyed.

labels: the vixen & the babydoll.

aesthetics: silk dresses, lip gloss, the deafening sound of designer heels making contact with marble floors, lipstick stained coffee mugs, matte nail polish, glitter, diamonds, snow days, satin sheets, impulsive shopping sprees, romantic comedy binge watches, ocean waves, lolita, bright lights, day drinking, champagne for breakfast, iced matcha, lingerie as outerwear, yves saint laurent mon paris perfume sprayed on the nape of her neck & her decolletage, lavender oil, acrylic nails, snow blanketing trees, hardwood mahogany floors, hgtv reruns, vintage chanel, pretty in pink, rose gold accents, bubble baths after a long day, half naked pictures, & rose water.

style inspo: taylor hill, kylie jenner, candice swanepoel, josephine skriver, kendall jenner, blair waldorf, & cher horowitz. here are just a few examples of her wardrobe !! ( x x x x x ) muse inspo: brooke davis ( one tree hill ), cher horowitz ( clueless ), blair waldorf ( gossip girl ), gabrielle solis ( desperate housewives ), lydia martin ( teen wolf ), fallon carrington ( dynasty ), sadie saxton ( awkward ), lauren cooper ( faking it ), mini mcguinness ( skins ), holly golightly ( breakfast at tiffany’s ), maddy perez ( euphoria ), brooke maddox ( scream ), samantha jones ( sex & the city ), tahani al jamil ( the good place ), jackie burkhart ( that ‘70s show ), naomi clark ( 90210 ), cece parekh ( new girl ), cassie howard ( euphoria ), madison montgomery ( american horror story ), jenna maroney ( 30 rock ), kelly kapoor ( the office ), elle woods ( legally blonde ), rachel green ( friends ), paris hilton, & mona-lisa saperstein ( parks & recreation ).

background ;;

violet faith lennox is diane galindo’s & richard lennox’s youngest child. born three weeks early on 18 june 1996 at aspen valley hospital in aspen, colorado. the very moment they held their daughter ( who they lovingly referred to as a ‘ blessing ‘ ) in their open arms, they knew that their family was finally complete.

her mother ( diane ) is her parents’ pride & joy. as the eldest daughter of wealthy wall street executives, she has done nothing but make her family proud her entire life. growing up, her dream in life was to help her father’s business but her career quickly changed course when she decided to pursue a career in medicine. the new york native eventually ended up going to harvard medical school in boston, massachusetts where she would end up meeting her future husband. to this day, dr. galindo is one of the most recognizable names in medicine & is world renowned for her work as a reproductive endocrinologist ( fertility specialist ).

her father on the other hand ( richard ) was born to an influential family in los angeles, california. from an early age, he was exposed to the spotlight due to the fact that his own father was governor of california & hoped to become president one day. however, things seemed to go off course the day the former governor was caught in his own cheating scandal all while being married to a former pageant queen. scandal erupted when the politician not only cheated on his stunning wife with a young secretary but when his mistress announced to the world that she was pregnant. the entire news circuit covered this affair for months & the governor resigned from his position when news broke that he urged his mistress to get an abortion.

following the scandal, the family fell out of the public spotlight. they spent years trying to repaint their public image after it was tarnished for nothing but selfish desire. approximately ten years later, the family made news again but this time about their newly found faith in god joining the long list of religious right wing politicians. richard’s father felt as if the only way to redeem himself was to devote himself to god. after years of distancing themselves from the catholic church, the family dove right back in which became the start of their fundamental catholic values that ruled every aspect of their lives.

as the only son in the family, richard’s parents had high expectations for him. however, he seemed to have different plans for himself that didn’t involve making his family proud or practicing what they preached. as an undergraduate student at yale, his interests were far & few between. his days only seemed to consist of sleeping with random women & binge drinking to his heart’s content. he knew that he didn’t have to be an astounding student because he had a giant trust fund waiting for him at home. but after a drunk driving accident that resulted in a 40 year old woman’s hospitalization & his own arrest, richard knew he had to clean up his act.

he eventually followed his family’s lead & became an ultra religious catholic. he even managed to boost up his grades & get an academic scholarship to harvard law school where he met diane. diane didn’t come from a strong religious background. in fact, she liked to tell people that she only believed in science & didn’t have faith or trust in a superior figure. but when she met a young richard lennox, her entire world was turned upside down. she let him into her life, converted to catholicism, & the two got married after three years of dating. flash forward to 1992. the married couple is moving to aspen, colorado for diane’s new job at an upscale hospital. they even received a generous check from richard’s parents to buy a mansion in the mountains !!

life for the couple in colorado was serene. they eventually welcomed their first child into the world ( a daughter ) & a few months later, their families moved to help them raise their children. both diane & richard always wanted a big family due to their catholic faith. they both agreed they would stop after 6 kids, however, their minds were quickly changed when she became pregnant with violet.

her pregnancy was extremely difficult to say the least. between being on bed rest for months & frequent hospitalizations, she didn’t know if she could do this again. on top of her own health issues, she also had problems with her unborn child. there was even a night where they thought they would lose violet after diane experienced unexplainable bleeding & her fellow colleagues at the hospital couldn’t detect a heartbeat.

luckily, they were able to find a heartbeat after 6 minutes of deafening silence & hushed prayers for a miracle. after that night, they knew that their daughter was a blessing which is why they agreed to give her the middle name faith which symbolizes their unrequited devotion to god.

eventually, violet was born !! she was born three weeks early & spent a week in the icu but overall she was healthy. she was a bit underweight but she was miraculously healthy. but after everything the family had been through, they decided that violet would be their last child.

as a child, violet did every thing her parents had asked of her. their faith played a large role in her upbringing which is why she spent every sunday inside of church.

by the time she was 8 years old, her family decided to move to new york city due to the fact that her mom received a prestigious job on the upper east side. at the age of 8, violet was already a competitive gymnast who’s likes included spending time with her family, competing, & going to school. even then she knew she could do everything she loved in another state which is why she didn’t put up much of a fight when she was told that they would be moving across the country.

moving from snowy open colorado to the upper east side of manhattan was definitely a culture shock for violet even at an early age. nonetheless, she eventually got used to new york city life & to this day she doesn’t think she would survive a week in colorado.

even after she moved to a new part of the country, violet remained devoted to gymnastics & her family. she had dreams of one day going to the olympics for gymnastics & everyone who knew her saw her potential. she even competed in world events & became a household name !! although, her parents often emphasized that school & religion come first which is why they made her & her sister attend a private catholic school all the way through high school.

in high school, she was a classic goody two shoes church girl. she was a strong student who received perfect grades in order to please her parents. for the longest time, she didn’t have time for anything other than school & sports but that changed by the time she was 16.

despite attending an all girls school, violet met her first boyfriend through one of her mutual friends. & like all stereotypical teen romances, it was love at first site. she was so infatuated with him that she was willing to put everything in her life on the back burner in order to focus on him.

& by the time she was 18, she received numerous academic & sports scholarships to prestigious colleges. however, violet decided to take a gap year in order to spend more time with her boyfriend of two years. she knew that she would eventually go to college but she wanted to make some time for herself first. her parents weren’t exactly happy about her decision due to the fact that she has big shoes to fill but they eventually came around the idea & were even happy for their daughter & her wholesome catholic boyfriend.

during her gap year, they spent an entire year traveling the world. they went to bali, greece, peru, brazil, iceland, dubai, thailand, argentina, & morocco. throughout the course of the year, violet documented her travel on her instagram & other social media platforms which is when she started gaining a lot of followers who wanted to watch her travel the world with the love of her life. before her influx of instagram followers, not a lot of people outside the world of gymnastics knew who she was. people of course knew who her parents were ( a famous doctor & lawyer ) but the world did not really know who exactly violet lennox was.

by the end of her gap year violet already had over 1 million followers on instagram !! & she was already getting paid doing what she loves which is travel the world. & since all of this happened during her year off, violet ended up telling her parents that she didn’t want to go to college which damaged their relationship as a result.

since her parents were so unsupportive of her decision to not go to college & ultimately quit gymnastics, violet ended up moving out of her house & moved in with her boyfriend at only the age of 19. & because her parents were completely unsupportive of her decision not to attend college, they cut her off financially & she was forced to make a living for herself. by this point, her career as a social media influencer was booming so she was already making a lot of money just through promoting detox teas, teeth whitening kits, etc.

it may seem as if life for violet was perfect by this point despite her falling out with her parents. however, that was not the case. even though she fooled the entire world by thinking that she had a perfect relationship, her boyfriend was incredibly abusive towards her & had been ever since the two started dating. although he was never physically abusive, he was mentally, emotionally, & verbally abusive. for years violet made excuses for him & blamed herself for their problems which only made her feel more miserable than she already was. this was her first real relationship & she genuinely thought that they were destined to be together even though she was severely unhappy.

he would constantly cheat, manipulate her, make fun of her appearance & insecurities, & wouldn’t let her do anything without his permission. the two were together for three years & there even was a time where violet became pregnant but quickly had an abortion without him knowing as soon as she found out. just three months after living together, she finally found the courage to break up with him. although it wasn’t easy at first, she’s thankful that she finally got out of a dangerous relationship. she also understands the dangers of social media better than anyone else because she fooled the world into thinking that she was in a happy loving relationship when that was far from the truth.

when violet told the world about their breakup ( most likely in an instagram live or an instagram story ) she ended up losing millions of followers. the majority of her followers only followed her to watch her travel the world with her boyfriend so once they found out that they were no longer together ; they didn’t see the point in following her anymore.

for an entire year following her breakup, violet began to spiral out of control. she started using drugs, alcohol, & partying as coping mechanisms in order to help her move on & forget about everything she had endured. that of course didn’t work but that didn’t stop her from partying every single night of the week & ending up in a stranger’s bed. eventually, she even leaked her own sex tape & naked pictures to the press in hopes that the press coverage would help make up for the millions of followers she lost on instagram.

& as she expected, the world would not stop talking about her sex tape for months. she gained the most followers she has ever done & eventually she got real modeling jobs as a result of her popularity. she hasn’t exactly told the world that she was the one who leaked the 20 minute video but everyone in their immediate circle knows she did it & also knows that she has other videos lying around for ‘ emergency ’ situations.

however, her parents cut off all contact with her following her scandal & it is still something that cuts deep two years later. she tells herself & everyone around her that she doesn’t need a family but everyone knows that’s a lie. it’s just a lie she keeps on telling herself to feel better about herself.

violet managed to clean up her act & went from being a social media influencer to an actual model. many people don’t respect her name due to her troubling past with her sex tape & being an instagram model but that doesn’t seem to stop her. she has been featured in the love advent calendar, the victoria’s secret fashion show, & many fashion weeks since then.

she became the youngest victoria’s secret angel at the age of 20 !!

she is also the youngest global ambassador for lancôme & ralph lauren !!

although she has become more of an actual model rather an instagram model, she still stays loyal to her social media platforms which is why she has over 100 million followers.

she lives a happy life after being so unhappy for so long but she still seeks her parents approval even though they have no contact with her.

personality ;;

for someone who is incredibly smart, she pretends to be dumb sometimes. she doesn’t think that guys like smart girls so she dumbs herself down. but she could also be a ditz at times ( unintentionally ).

she likes to think of herself as approachable but she also knows that she can be intimidating. nonetheless, she tries to be nice to everyone who comes her way unless they say the wrong thing to her & then she switches on her mean girl switch that comes far too easy for her.

even though violet is a lot to deal with, she is a nice person !! although she does have a flair for the dramatics & denies being dramatic all the time. she also likes to think of herself as a ‘ good girl ’ even though she is far from one. she loves sex & isn’t afraid to shy away from that but she still tells people that she’s good or an angel because it makes herself feel better about herself.

she also goes to confession 1-2 times a week to pray for her sins in order to get into heaven. she thinks with the amount of adultery she commits on a daily basis she needs to pray for her sins otherwise she won’t go to heaven & she thinks she looks way better in white than in red.

if you do her wrong, she will go out of her way to make your life a living hell. she is incredibly protective over the people in her life so she will do just about anything for them including berating people. revenge might as well be her last name !!

she may be loud and unnecessary at times but she is kind hearted and does mean well. even if she does have a bad way of showing it at times.

miscellaneous ;;

since she comes from a strict traditional upbringing, she was taught that being anything other than straight is wrong. so when violet first started experimenting with girls & even developed feelings for one, she told herself that she was going to hell. this is one of the reasons why she has not come out of the closet or has even come to terms with her sexuality. she denies all past same sex encounters & relationships which isn’t healthy. but since her parents disowned her following her sex tape, she knows that they would hate her more than they already do. if they ever found out that their daughter was anything but straight they would lose their minds & she’s still hoping that one day they could repair their relationship. apparently being bisexual is worse than having a sex tape !!

when she was a competitive gymnast for the united states national team, she was often put on strict diets in order to keep up. as a result of the strict dieting & unrealistic body images, violet developed bulimia as early as 12 years old. so when she quit gymnastics after deciding not to attend college, she was happy. she loved the sport but hated the pressure. even to this day, the sport isn’t actually sure what happened to her because she was an olympic hopeful. they all thought that she could have been the next gold medalist but she values her own mental health & sanity over a couple of medals. & even though she sought help for her eating disorder that reared ugly heads at times, she did slip up a lot while she was with her boyfriend who would make fun of her appearance. even now she isn’t 100% but she is better than she has ever been.

is extremely flirty & alluring.

violet also believes that the world revolves around her. many people may find her confidence to be annoying or superficial but she takes pride in it because it took her so long to learn how to love herself after being with her first boyfriend.

speaking of relationships, she’s terrible at them. she often runs away when things become too serious, manipulates the people she’s with, or breaks up with them for no reason. her logic is that she wants to hurt someone before they have the chance to hurt her. she still has yet to understand that the rest of the world isn’t like her ex but her past still haunts her every time she catches feelings.

she likes to tell people that monogamy isn’t the life for her which is why she prefers casual sex. she is also a proud sugar baby & has many sugar daddies !! most of them are old & married but she is a sucker for anyone who buys her nice things.

also has an instagram account for her dog !!

her most used emojis in her phone are the halo, the suggestive face, & the pink glitter heart.

she’s a gemini which means that she is expressive, quick-witted, sociable, and affectionate.

her favorite tv show is gossip girl.

her favorite movie is the notebook.

has a passion for photography but hasn’t explored it seriously. she understands that she makes a living off of being another pretty face but she also wants to explore other aspects of her career like photography & maybe even acting.

she often considers going to college or even going back to gymnastics a lot but she not made up her mind yet. she is happy right now as a model but she does miss aspects of her old life.as an instagram model, she is like kendall jenner or gigi hadid. in other words, she has a large following & people book her for photo shoots & fashion shows in order to boost their own notoriety because it looks better on their part. her walk is average at best but she does have a beautiful face. people hate instagram models working in the real modeling business as it is so they despise an instagram model with a sex tape !!

she lives in a townhouse in chelsea that has been featured in architectural digest twice. her home is filled with hardwood floors, marble, gold accents, & constantly smells like lavender.

the last concert she went to was lana del rey.

the last song she listened to was everybody loves you by charlotte lawrence.

the last show she binge watched was you.

the last movie that made her cry was tangled.

loves wellness shots after dogpound workouts.

gets daily massages by her french masseuse.

all & all, she is a mess but she loves the people in her life !!

here’s her pinterest board if you want to take a look !! i also have a wc page here that will most likely be updated over the weekend. & my discord is علياء#4067

[tomorrows2top]

A long long time ago (okay, just 5 years), a person sent me a question that started something I really didn’t expect to develop. This kid here was supposed to be just a little extra in this blog.

The original post is gone, but I found its origins on my folder for this blog.

On this exact same day, Nov 12. I made another post later, with another doodle of him, with a name and some ideas I got for him while I had been doodling him. His name? I got asked on twitter and a friend said “I could’ve been Daichi or Taisuke!”, okay I liked the idea. I was kind calling the original canon kid as Daichi for a while.

I also doodled him a Digital World outfit with the inspiration on Taichi & Daisuke designs. On this same picture, I gave him an unnamed partner digimon -- a V-mon with a Holy ring on his ear.

For more further information about this kid’s development (with pictures), keep reading.

[WARNING: CONTAIN A LOT OF PICTURES]

A year later, on Feb/4, another question, after one with the early concept of Akira & Amy  (my DaiHika children) as answer, a person asked about a DaiMiya children. In this same question, I doodled him & his sister (who was only doodled on paper & uncolored), Kyo (with the corruption name as ‘Kiyo’) as answer.

On this same year, I decided to change Daichi’s hairstyle to something new and make him less Daisuke-y as possible. His hair became more Taiki-y, but later I was going to change it all again.

I must admit, I kinda gave up on the project in 2014. But you know? Thanks to whoever sent me those, on 2015 (and replied on Mar/29), I decided to bring it back -- with development, changes and new characters.

His hair kept having a different way to draw it, though still similar to the way I draw Daisuke’s hair. His bangs got another change -- they became similar to Daisuke’s, but drawn in an different way. He got character arc, dreams & personality, a team and a supporting cast. The story concept? Still the same. 

People ended up liking him, making this potato lady surprised. He got empathy for his tragic backstory, fanart and fans. If there’s something that surprises me that much is when people actually like something I made. Because I’m paranoid & pessimist haha... I rarely like something I write/draw. But this kid and his world... I’m working on it since 2015 to be honest.

Not to mention that there’s a huge evolution in those design to the actual current one:

2012:

2015:

And current doddles show the improvement of my artstyle/art in general:

Aug/15 2016:

Oct/19 2017:

So... I’d like to thank everyone for your support and for all the love you given to this child. And to Akira, Toshi, Hoshi, Kiyoko/Kyo, Taisuke, Hoshi, Eiji & Yume. I rarely drew Reika and Amy, but I hope I can draw them more often and that they get love as well.

So, on this day, 5th years since the beginning of this wonderful project, I got an idea from @demonoflight on Discord that sounded perfect for this commemoration -- A doddle/design of 5 year old Daichi.

I hope you can keep supporting this blog, this kid and this project. I’m really thankful for all the love this simple OC got and how much i’ve been working on him.

Whoever asked about those questions, on 2015, Thank you for giving me a reason to work on this project again.

And to the person who asked the question that was the genesis of Daichi, thank you so much for sending me that question.

I hope all of you are proud of this child and satisfied with my answers/doodles ;w;

[scarlet-argent-fire-fanfics]

Story of Life

Prompt: every story has a beginning middle and end. Not necessarily in that order

master-list

A/N-  hey so I haven’t written anything in a while but I figured I would post this. I hope to write more stuff soon.

Chapter 199    Alexander lay in bed his bones aching as he glances over to the other side. If he concentrated hard enough he could still imagine Y/n, laying next to him. Her soft body hugging him from behind. Her now short white curls framing those Y/E/C  eyes that he could stare at for hours. He slowly sat up groaning at how his body cracked and groaned. The sunshine bright against his gray hair. Today was January 11, 2078 and he is now 98 years old. The snow gently fell outside causing him to sigh. Y/n had always loved the winter. This was also the ten year anniversary of her death. She was 88 when she had passed away in her sleep. He had never gone a day since without missing her. He stood up slipping his gray slippers on and made his way over to his writing desk by the window.  He slipped on his glasses before sitting down. Once again beginning his day with the craft he had been honing since he was a child.    “Once upon a time, there was a boy-” Chapter 20    A sharp slap echoed through the hall as Y/N glared at Alexander with hatred in her eyes. They had just finished a debate for junior class president when he hit her with a low blow about her intelligence. “I hate you Hamilton. I promise I will destroy you next election” she sneered before stomping off. He couldn’t help but rub his cheek and watch as her Y/H/C braid flopped back and forth. John clapped him on the back and chuckled.    “Nice going Ham.” Alex felt his heart hammering. At that moment he had to find away to make her his. He glared playfully at John pulling him into a headlock and giving a nudgy. “Hey hey hey watch the hair.” he grumbled before pulling back causing his small group of friends to laugh.  He turned to see the last of Y/n turning the corner at the end of the hall.  He smiled to himself before walking the opposite way with his friends.

Chapter 30    Their bodies collided in a mesh of teeth and clothes. Alex pressed Y/N against the closet wall lining her neck with hot kisses as her legs wrapped around his waist. Her soft gasp and whimpers only egged him on.    “God I hate you.” Y/N muttered biting her bottom lip. He only smiled and continued his onslaught on her neck. She just felt so good against him and he could have sworn she was meddling with him.  “F-Fuck Alexander.” she gasped out his name just as the door opened to show John smirking.    “Alright you two.” he smiled and Y/n pulled away fixing her ruffled clothes. She exited the closet and before Alexander could say anything else she had disappeared. He stood in the doorframe with a small smile on his face. “Dude you have a thing for girls who hate you.” John smirked and Alexander just nodded. It was true. Chapter 60    “FUUUUUUUCCCCKKKK I hate you so much.” Y/N yelled as the nurses rushed around her and Alexander was slowly losing the feeling in his hand. Y/N looked so beautiful even as she was sweaty and cursing him. He just nodded and stroked the back of her hand lovingly. The nurses stood at the end of the bed and smiled.    “Alright Y/n, give me one more big push.” She said and Y/N nodded before letting out another scream. Alex smiled as he heard a soft cry. The nurse smiled as she clipped the cord. “Congrats its a girl.” she smiled and Y/N sighed in relief after finally feeling the pressure ease up. The nurse place the now swaddled baby girl into Y/N’s arms and she couldn’t help but sniffle.    “Alex our daughter is so beautiful.” Y/N smiled down at her. “ Hello baby, I’m so happy to finally see you.” Alex smiled brightly as he walked to her side and kissed her temple. Chapter 5 “Class I’d like to introduce Y/N, she’ll be joining our class.” Y/N nervously wrung her hands on her new skirt her mother had just gotten her.    “H-Hi, I’m so happy to meet you all.” She said nervously and Alex finally looked up from his paper he was doodling on. She looked so scared as his teacher led her to her new seat.    “Alex, I’d like you to show her around today.” she said and he nodded. THe teacher moved back toward the front of the room. Y/N sat down next to him and smiled.    “I hope we can be good friends.” she cooed and he nodded going back to doodling. Chapter 56    Alex walked up behind Y/N and wrapped his arms around her extended stomach and smiled kissing her neck. “You look so beautiful baby.” he cooed softly into her ear and she giggled. “How was I this lucky.”    “Well, I would say I fell in love with your debate skills but we both know who can out debate who.” She smirked and he rolled his eyes playfully. “I think it was your awkward flirting that won me over.” She grinned and he sighed and began tickling her. “NOOOO Stop!” she giggled and squirmed but Alex had a good grip around her.    “You’re not going anywhere mon amour.”  He grinned before kissing her neck and picking her up carrying her to their room. Chapter 190    Y/N laid in her hospital bed with so many machines hooked up to her. Alex sat next to her bed holding her hand. “ Alexander.” Her voice so soft it was barely a whisper. He looked up at her seeing a gentle smile on her face. “I’m sorry my dear. That I must leave you alone.” she said a tear rolling down her cheek. He wiped it away gently holding her cheek in his hand. “Please live the rest of your life to the fullest. I promise, I’ll be waiting for you.” She cooed and Alex was crying tears streaming down his face.    “I promise my love.” he kissed her gently before the monitors began to go nuts. Alex sat back and shook his head before he sobbed against her limp hand. “I will see you again my dear. I love you so much.” he sobbed as the nurses rushed in to try to bring her back but they eventually called her death. Chapter 200    Alex had been in the hospital for a week due to his heart slowly giving out and he refused to be put on a transplant list. He was dying and he was okay with it. His eldest daughter sat next to him holding his hand. “Gwen, tell everyone that I love them and I want them to live their lives to the fullest.” he said softly and Gwen nodded rubbing her thumb over his cheek. “ I love you daddy. Please don’t go yet.” She sobbed and He cooed sweetly. “Sweetie I will always be with you. I have to go baby. I’ve kept your mother waiting long enough. You know how impatient she can be.” He gave her a sweet smile before his eyes gently closed and his heart stopped. Alex looked over to see Y/N smiling and looking as beautiful as ever. “I’m sorry it took me so long dear. I had to get our story out there.” He cooed and she smiled running into his arms. He smiled and picked her up spinning her around.    “I can forgive you I guess. Let’s go I wanna make up for lost time.” she smirked and he followed her to somewhere he was sure would be beautiful. Chapter 1    Once upon a time there was a boy, who met a girl. He bullied her because he didn’t understand how he felt for her and when she showed him what she was made of her realized her love her. They will spend many years together with ups and downs and many adventures. Today is the birthday of Alexander Hamilton and this is where is story begins.